Flick. Heat. Crackle. Inhale. Light. Exhale. Smoke lazily drifts through the still afternoon air, winding around my head. I lean back against the countertop, stretching my tired back. I glance over towards the three other people occupying this house with me. Immersed in a rousing game of Uno, they all sit on the dilapidated carpet around a low coffee table, simultaneously showing competitive smiles and moans of dismay all at the same time. The tall boy throws down a plus four, apologising to the blonde girl to his left, remorse entirely absent from his face. She curses at him and then giggles as the dark-haired girl spills half her beer down her plaid shirt. A small frown stitches its way onto her face, brown eyes inspecting the damage, followed by a shrug and the beer brought to a pair of smiling lips. Dragging my eyes away from the spectacle, I chuckle lightly and make my way over to the game, patting the tall boy on the back and congratulating him on making the game harder for the blonde. A glance over in her direction confirms my suspicion that I'm being flipped off, though with a bright smile upon her face.
-
Sitting down and bringing the cigarette to my lips again I think on how rare it is to see them all smiling so earnestly. 'Course that could be blamed on the numerous empty bottles scattered around us, but it's still really nice nonetheless. The dark-haired girl swoops in with a crushing victory and sculls the rest of her beer, grinning smugly the entire time. Well played, Roni. Rubbing my eyes and shaking my head, I ask the trio if they want another round. Greeted with eager nods, I stand up and cock my head to the side, – now almost instinctually – reaching for the deep foggy feeling within my mind. Grasping hold of it and manipulating it, my veins turn black and smoke begins to wisp off of my right shoulder and arm. Slowly, I reach out towards the bar with my right arm, wincing slightly as it stretches slightly more than it's used to. Grabbing the 6-pack of ciders resting on the counter-top, I retract my arm, and sit back down between the blonde and the tall boy.
I feel hazel eyes boring into my skull
"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?" I drawl, confusion unconvincingly plastered all over my face.
"You did the thing again!"
"Yes. And?"
"It's fuckin' weird!"
"Yours is weirder, Miss-Smoky-Angel-Wings."
"Firstly don't call me that you dick, and secondly; I don't use mine every chance I get!"
"Personally I think what I'm doing is called practice, am I right guys?"
Glancing ahead I see one pair of rich brown eyes peeking over hand being pressed against her mouth, failing to stifle laughter. Glancing to my right I see the tall boy sighing with a hand pressed to his brow.
"I think they agree, Zoe."
"God I fucking hate all of you." She grumbles, shaking her head, face hidden in her palms.
"Noooo you dooon't, you could never hate us!" I chuckle, putting out my cigarette and leaning over to give her an apologetic hug, a second later feeling her lean into it in forgiveness.
Giving her shoulders a final squeeze, I pull away and tear apart the six pack, passing one bottle to each of them.
"Tiiiimmmm, can I have an-… twooooo ciders? Prettyy pleashj?" Brown eyes plead with me, digging deep into my soul and preying upon my love for cute animals.
"Roni, how many have you had already?" I reply suspiciously, eyeing the discarded bottles lying around and wondering how many of them were hers.
"liiiiiiike… 3? But can I still havve one anywayy?" she asks, leaning over the coffee table to try and make me look into her eyes more, and doing anything but. Trying to look away from her imploring eyes. And trying even harder to ignore the pale olive skin her beer-soaked, gravity-affected, oversized plaid shirt is trying to reveal to me, I decide upon a stray bottle cap to focus my attention.
"Ehhh, fine I guess, I can't stop you from getting your own if I did say no anyway, so go ahead." I relent, and attempt to tear another bottle from the cardboard.
Before I could complete the action, I was surprised by a loud thud and arms wrapped around my shoulder as Roni sloppily attempted to give me a hug across the coffee table, knocking over a half-empty cider in the process.
"Thank youuuuuuuu!" she slurs into my neck, her cold nose pressing softly against the skin of my shoulder and causing me to unconsciously lean my head into her neck, draping my face in silky black hair.
I awkwardly bring my arms up to pat her back and lightly push her up and off the table. Thankfully no cards were damaged in the accident, but paper towels are definitely in order.